In every descent, there is a forgetting, an exile, and a return.
These are the old stories that carry our modern ache — retold for women who have lived them.

Here, the heroines are not tidy. They are skinless, handless, voiceless, silenced, severed.
They wander forests. They lose what cannot be replaced.
They learn the language of the underworld before they find their way home.

Each tale is a mirror — asking what was cut off in you, what you have left behind, and what might be growing back in stranger, stronger form.

This is not a collection of happy endings.
It is a map of the thresholds you already know in your bones.
And a reminder that even in the deepest dark, there is a path — if not back to who you were, then toward who you are becoming.